


Memories

by birdybirdnerd



Category: Pendragon - D. J. MacHale
Genre: Angst, Gen, No Plot/Plotless, Post-War, Suicidal Thoughts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-15
Updated: 2017-05-15
Packaged: 2018-11-01 06:35:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 756
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10916331
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/birdybirdnerd/pseuds/birdybirdnerd
Summary: Sometimes, Bobby remembered the war, and it hurt.





	Memories

**Author's Note:**

> this is short and i dont like it but i needed to write something or i would die

Sometimes, Bobby remembered the war, and it _hurt_.

He would wake up gasping for air, the phantom pains of Saint Dane laying into him in the Ghee compound making old scars twinge, or the pressure of a heavy metal dado pinning him to the ground, disintegrating wand inches from his face, or ever the remembered adrenaline from leaping out of a crashing train into the Ravinian compound. It was easier, years later, to deal with such things, but they never quite left him.

He would wake, palms sweating, muscles tense and stiff as he struggled to stay absolutely still lest he be found, lest he be heard and his cover blown. He would wake, screaming himself hoarse after friends and loved ones lost, seeing Uncle Press and Kasha and Mark and Courtney and Patrick and all the others’ faces flash past, in pain, suffering, dying. He would wake, sobbing, knowing his life was over and there was no going back, no changing what had happened, no fixing all that the demon had ruined, and yes, they could go to better places and make the world green again, but the damage had been done.

Living with Mark and Courtney made it so, so much better, but there was only so much they could do by themselves. They comforted where they could and left him alone when needed, when he just had to get away from it all and remember, and they were there for him, as they always had been. But it wasn’t enough.

Uncle Press visited on occasion, sometimes for only moments, before whisking himself back away to Solara where he belonged. Those instances, everything seemed brighter somehow, the world a little less lonely, as Press brought news from the other Travelers on how their worlds were coming along.

But without the others actually _there_ , it was hard sometimes, to keep going.

He had gotten so close to them in such a short time, that their absences stung. He knew it was how it should be, how it was _meant_ to be, but it didn’t make it hurt any less. They were confined to their separate worlds, their separate lives, to rebuild and continue on and eventually meet back up in Solara when they had all lived and died.

Bobby found he almost couldn’t wait that long.

A life seemed so incredibly long, now that the threat of death at any moment had passed. He had so long lived under the possibility that his life would be short and unsweet, that suddenly knowing he had decades left, left his head spinning. And not necessarily in a good way.

Especially without the friends he had made, it was a lot harder to go on after the war. Mark and Courtney were there for him, they always had been and they always would be, but sometimes it just wasn’t _enough_. He hated that, hated that he thought that way, hated it almost as much as he had started to hate himself.

He found himself wondering, ruminating. Thinking. Dark thoughts, thoughts he shuddered at but couldn’t help but let in. He found some fascination in the thoughts, in the fact that he was having them, and that was almost as bad as the thoughts themselves.

You see, the thoughts went as follows:

_You miss the other Travelers._

_You know you’ll see them all again when you die._

_What’s stopping you?_

And that terrified Bobby to no end.

But still, he thought. Still. What _was_ stopping him?

Certainly it wasn’t this life he found himself living, here on Third Earth- no, _Earth_. Rebuilding, rounding up survivors, living with only two of his best friends with no family left alive, cut off from the rest of his found family until he died.

Until he realized: it was just that. Stopping him, was none other than his found family and those he still had, Mark and Courtney. They would be devastated if they lost him early on, even if they knew where he would be. And the other Travelers, who knew what they’d think if he took the easy way out. Besides, he would probably be lonely for all those years while he waited for them to all die naturally and find their ways back to Solara.

It wasn’t much, but it kept him away from the edge. And that was something.

He had a family to help, and a world to build, and though it was hard, it was something.

Bobby always had been stronger than he gave himself credit for.


End file.
